


Sparks Fly

by Fumm95



Series: As Bright As Stars (BoL&S) [3]
Category: Blades of Light and Shadow (Visual Novel)
Genre: Almost Kiss, F/M, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Pre-Relationship, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fumm95/pseuds/Fumm95
Summary: Early during the trip to Undermount, a thunderstorm brings with it a moment of connection.
Relationships: Tyril Starfury/Main Character (Blades of Light and Shadow)
Series: As Bright As Stars (BoL&S) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655983
Kudos: 14





	Sparks Fly

**Author's Note:**

> We had an awesome thunderstorm last night, which made me think of Tyril and how his magic was sometimes described as electric, I believe, and thus this was born.
> 
> I haven't played the most recent chapter of Choices yet so hopefully there aren't any reveals about Undermount that destroy my headcanons about what the place is like.

She awoke suddenly, blinking in the darkness. Across the tent, Nia was still curled in her bedroll, while Imtura, arms flung apart, had stretched out into the rest of the space, the gentle snores clear evidence that whatever roused her hadn’t affected either of them.

Not that she could blame them. From the look of it, night still reigned overhead, and they still had a long trip before them.

For a moment, she contemplated rejoining them back in slumber, but a low, deep rumble resonated through the area, almost echoing through her bones. Something about the air itself seemed _alive_ , full of energy, and curious in spite of herself, she threw her cloak on over her nightgown and stepped out of the tent.

Outside, the wind rolled over the grassy plains on which they had set up camp, a brisk breeze that did nothing to the carefully pitched tents but which played through her hair, which caught the edges of her cape and tugged. Above her, the sky was dark, void of the usual moon or sea of stars. Instead, heavy clouds raced overhead, blocking any light from the heavens, thick and dark so that she could barely make out the scenery. In spite of the previously warm air, the night had chilled and she found herself drawing her cloak tighter around her, repressing a shiver, as she looked around.

A sudden flash of light filled the air, illuminating the land around her, making unfamiliar shadows of the trees and stones and one tall figure, long dark hair whipping in the wind as he faced away from her. Relaxing somewhat, she moved to join him, standing and watching the storm roll in with what almost looked like amazement in his eyes.

“Tyril?” Her voice was carried away almost as soon as she spoke, but he still turned, something flashing across his face faster than she could recognize before smoothing into his usual cool tranquility.

“Csilla. You are up early. It’s not yet time to change watch, let alone to continue moving onward.”

She shrugged, the movement setting her cloak fluttering behind her once more. “I suppose. I suddenly found myself awakened and came to investigate. Though I suppose I have my answer, then.”

“The storm, you mean.”

“Indeed.”

Another flash of lightning lit up the night, this time slicing through the air, a thin branch of electric energy, wild and awesome, that seemed to almost rent the sky in two. Beside her, Tyril audibly gasped, wonderment dancing across his face. A heartbeat passed before the thunder followed, a faint clap that turned into a steadily growing roll until the ground shook with its resonance.

She turned to find him smiling openly at her, a surprisingly boyish expression that had her grinning back, an odd, swooping sensation in her stomach.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

“The power of nature? It is. It is humbling as well. The sheer amount of energy makes any spell seem like a paltry trick in comparison.” His eyes darted back upwards as another streak lit up the night sky. “And it is far different seeing it here than…”

“On a boat in the middle of the sea?”

Her face must have twisted at the memory; he huffed a breath, the closest thing to a laugh she had ever heard from him. “Certainly compared to that incident, yes, though I was more alluding to in Undermount. It is possible to view the sky and there are storms, of course, but there, it is all viewed within the shelter of the mountain. This…” Yet another bolt rent the air, followed immediately after by another clap of thunder. “This is beautiful.”

She glanced over to find him almost glowing, as if in response to the storm that raged before them, and she drew a deep breath, the unbridled energy seeming to fill her lungs, even as the wind picked up in a sudden gust. “It is,” she murmured, and not even she was sure if she was talking about the view or the man beside her.

Before she could look away, he turned to face her directly, eyes bright and fiery against the dark clouds. Her breath caught in her throat as he stepped closer, barely suppressing a shiver as he stared, a warm hand reaching out to brush her hair out of her face.

“Csilla…”

She drew a deep breath, but before she could close the distance between them, a droplet of water hit her on the head, followed by another and another and she gasped, jumping back as the rain began to pour overhead, drenching them both in seconds.

Laughing in spite of herself, she shook her head, feeling wet strands against her neck, and watched as he did the same with a grimace. “There’s another difference, no doubt.”

“Actively being rained on. Naturally.” He shook his head, though she couldn’t help but notice that there was still a faint hint of a smile on his face. “We should get back to the tents before we both catch a chill. I doubt anyone would attack in this weather.”

“Yes, before your armor rusts entirely and you are stuck in that position.” She grinned at the look of outrage that crossed his face.

“This is elven armor of the highest quality. It will not rust after a little rain.”

She chuckled, patting his arm. “I’m sure it is, but even so, I doubt this much water is good for it, nor us.” She squinted towards the tents, before shrugging and sprinting back, the splashes behind her signs that Tyril was right on her heels.

In the entrance of her tent, she paused, turning to find him waiting outside his own tent, where Mal was no doubt sound asleep. “Good night, Tyril.”

He nodded, something warm and gentle in his gaze before he turned away. “Sleep well.”


End file.
